


Proof of Purchase

by herbailiwick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby knows there's something wrong with Sam; there's got to be. It doesn't feel wrong, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proof of Purchase

Bobby's sure there's something wrong with Sam.

Sam's in his arms, twisting against him, needy and nowhere near tamed, using the power of his 6'4" form to his advantage in a way Bobby wasn't even sure was possible for Sam, but apparently it is, if this is Sam.

They'd just been sharing a drink and a laugh about Dean's face when he discovered how Sam had changed the Impala, and somehow Bobby has come to be pressed up with his back against the sink, and Sam's rubbing against him, and their groans keep meeting, in unison and in harmony, and he can't say he minds Sam's lack of inhibition.

Bobby clutches at Sam's strong, bare shoulders and upper back, at those muscled arms he'd like to kiss at because they're that sweet.

It's Sam's tattoo he sees there on Sam's chest, the exact same as he'd had before he'd said yes and took the plunge, and Bobby leans in to kiss it, reminds himself some parts of this new, strange Sam are exactly like the original. He feels good but dirty as he teases the skin with his tongue, as he goes for the nipple and gives a suck.

Sam reaches out and grips the sink's counter ledge for support with a groan suggesting he's completely overwhelmed by the physical sensations and not about to shy away, in fact he presses close for more, and Bobby pulls back slightly to scratch his beard along Sam's chest.

Sam rubs against him harder, sort of feral and mindless about it, but Bobby likes it, he really does, and Bobby straightens up to steal a heavy kiss full of more need than he thinks humans are usually capable of, and he grips at Sam's jeans-clad ass because he can, and he growls against Sam's tugged and bitten lips, the ones trying to capture his and tug and bite too.

Before he knows it, he has an armful of cumming Winchester, and Sam keens and groans in a shameless release that could probably make big money in some sort of porno, which doesn't seem very Sam-like, but maybe this isn't Sam after all, but Bobby doesn't care, or, okay, he does.

Bobby feels Sam's hands wrap around him and hold him close, and he struggles to unfasten his own jeans and finish himself off, but it's not that tall of an order because Sam is tall and looking out-of-order, all broken sighs and nuzzling.

All too soon, there's nothing but the sound of the faucet that he needs to fix dripping behind him, nothing but Sam's warmth and complacency, nothing but the light of the sun as it comes through a crack and illuminates part of Sam's hair and the back of his shoulder like he's still soft and special, somewhere inside of him, even if it's not _everywhere_ inside of him like it had been before.

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam says, voice lazy, satisfied. "That's the best I've felt since coming back."

Bobby grins, then bites his lip, rubbing a hand along Sam's bare back. "Yeah. Don't mention it," he says. 

"I won't," Sam says back.

Bobby can hear the clock ticking away time as they stand there and Sam's half-supported weight becomes more of a pressing issue, literally.

"I think some clean up's in order," Bobby says. "Then, maybe a nap. I'm too old for this shit."

"Well, obviously you're not." He can _hear_ the smirk in Sam's voice as Sam pushes himself up a little unsteadily.

"You okay?" Bobby says as they quickly wash up as best as they can without completely stripping down and getting in the shower.

Sam shrugs. "Think so." 

Bobby sighs. "Good," he says, hoping things won't get weird between them.

Sam laughs. Somehow, the laughter doesn't exactly put Bobby at ease.

"Gonna go rest. Care to join me?" He wonders if that's too friendly.

"I'll do some more research," Sam says with a too-bright smile.

"What's eatin' you?" Bobby says nervously. Man, they haven't screwed things up already, have they, for good? He should have stopped Sam.

"I don't sleep," Sam finally says.

"Oh." 

"Yeah. I just...can't. Physically." Sam shrugs a little blankly again. There's no hint of guilt, no sweet, awkward questions, nothing Bobby's ever pictured would happen if... _it_ happened for them.

This isn't Sam. Not really. Only, it is, too. 

Bobby goes to take a hard-earned rest, the warmth of Sam's bare skin etched in his mind as he pictures how it would feel to rest next to Sam. Too friendly, though, really, that thought. Too close. Too hopeful and pansy-assed and stuck in La La Land.

He's nearly asleep when the door opens. 

"I can join you, right? I'm not going to sleep, but."

"Yeah," Bobby says. "Sure thing."

He's not quite sure Sam should be hunting, and pretty sure at least that Sam shouldn't be hunting alone. He's got some secret little tests of character he'd like to put Sam through and observe his reaction to later on.

But for now, Bobby doesn't let anything weigh on him that isn't weighing on Sam. For now, he feels protective and looked after at the same time as Sam settles in, as he starts to drift off. Sam is warm. Sam is too tall for the bed. Sam is different, but there's nothing they can do about that yet. Bobby sleeps, and Sam doesn't. 

And when Bobby wakes, Sam's still holding him carefully, like he knows what he's supposed to do from sense memory. It's weird. It's Sam. 

Bobby's damn glad Dean's occupied with Lisa because he's not sure what the future's going to mean for any of them, for Bobby and what used to be his two boys, though he'd always felt a little differently about Sam than he had about Dean.

A lot differently, maybe.

"Are you up, Bobby?"

"Yeah," Bobby says.

"Should we research?" Sam asks.

Bobby pulls Sam a little closer, sighing, letting his eyes close again.

"...Should we research, Bobby? I think we should," Sam says, there but not there, somehow not quite Sam.

Bobby ignores the question and takes an extra moment to appreciate Sam's warmth. If this is going to be too good to be true, at least it's good, he tells himself. At least it's damn good.


End file.
